The hold

You’re there

in those moments of space 

between the  places where white noise waits  

for silence.

But as the clock turns on

chiming time with a bird, and 

I find it harder to succumb 

to quietness

and feel you slip, between the 

cacophonous  cracks. 

A Little Bedtime Story

Somewhere in the sky
nestled between the stars
that litter darkness with light,
is a watchtower.

A monkey and an organ grinder
wear military threads
and walk its perimeter,
Keeping safe
the gemstones of the earth
too bright for our eyes.

These gems knit maps
of lives and futures; needles
tap, tap, tap to the sound
of destiny –
unravelled.

Perfect maps travel
on the backs of sparrows,
tied with knowledge and
best wishes,
leaving trails of magic in the
bursts of wings.

The little
inconspicuous sparrow
delivers to the obedient
dormouse –
wrapping a tale of time
in a tail of strength

And watch him scurry;
carefully crafting a handover
from mice to men,
so that dreams may
begin
at the end of sleep.

The Dream Catcher.

I’ve got twenty thousand dreams and
every single one
flutters its wings.

They are the nimblest.
So very delicate,
Yet perfect in their make up.
They dance for me.

I like to watch them.

The little ones tease
and tickle my nose
as the beasts stammer,
on high.

Kaleidoscopes of colours
hypnotise me.

They enchant me.

I lie on the grass
and as they circle above,
I can hear them.
They whisper their own songs.

Twenty thousand whispers fill the air
and flood my ears.

They tease. Invite. Tempt and dare.
Take us. Come and get me.
Move faster!
Jump!
Take the risk. Sshhh. She is close.
Do not
Be
Afraid.

All at once. All at once.

I spin beneath them, listening,
Choosing.

And that is how I spend my days…

With my net,
Running barefoot,
Jumping.
Chasing them.

Being the Dream Catcher.